


The Raven

by Lsama_no_miko



Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lsama_no_miko/pseuds/Lsama_no_miko
Summary: Wizardmon gets an expected visitor.





	The Raven

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Digimon or Poe’s poem so please don’t sue me. Enjoy ^_^

_Once upon a midnight dreary, which I pondered weak and weary,_

_Over a many quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore –_

 

            Wizardmon sat in what was once Myotismon’s library. An old and rather large book of English Literature was open on the little digimon’s lap. His brow furrowed in confusion under the brim of his pointed hat as he tried to decipher what was written inside. “What language is this anyway?” he asked, rubbing his tired eyes.

 

_While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,_

_As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door_

            Just as his eyes closed and Wizardmon was about to fall asleep for the night, the digimon mage was jolted awake by a soft knock at the door.

            “It’s someone come for a visit,” he said rising and putting the book down, “knocking at the door. That’s all.”

 

_Ah, distinctly I remember it was bleak December,_

_And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost on the floor._

_Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly and I had sought to borrow_

_From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore_

_Nameless here forevermore_

            He paused at the fireplace, the fading glow casting eerie shadows onto the floor and walls. It was as if the library had been infected by a horde of Bakemon and Phantomon. He glanced sadly at a photograph of the first group of Digidestined Tai had given him before the battle with his former master.

            A little white cat digimon stood by a little girl with brown hair and a whistle around her neck. He was glad to know that Gatomon had found Kari when she did. He was content to know that his friend would be happy as the girl’s partner, though he missed her terribly.

 

_And the silken sad uncertain of each purple curtain_

_Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;_

_So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating:_

            “It’s someone asking to come in,” he said, hugging himself against the slight chill he could not understand. The room was still warm form the fire, but he had felt a sudden cold he hadn’t felt since he was last in the presence of the vampire digimon. “Somebody asking to come in, that’s all it is and nothing else.”

 

_Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,_

            “Pardon me,” he began, starting off toward the door again, “You were knocking so quietly, I didn’t hear you.”

            Here he opened wide the door and to his surprise –  _darkness there and nothing more._

 

_Deep in the darkness peering; long I stood there wondering, fearing_

_Doubting dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;_

_But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,_

_And the only word there spoken was the whispered word “Lenore!”_

_Thus I whispered and an echo murmured back the word “Lenore!”_

_Merely this and nothing more_

            For long moments, the little digimon mage stood there, unnerved by the silence and stillness of the dark and empty hallway outside. Being in Myotismon’s castle in the Digiworld wasn’t the most cheeriest of places to be, especially during winter, but it was the only place Wizardmon had ever really considered a home. Of course that had been while he was working for the vampire lord, and  _she_  had been there to make things more bearable. He softly whispered Gatomon’s name, wishing she’d come back at least for a visit. He nearly jumped out of his digital skin when the name was echoed off the thick stone walls.

 

_Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,_

_Soon again I heard a tapping something harder than before._

            Closing the door, he turned back to the chair by the fire. Once again there came the knocking, slightly louder this time at one of the library’s few windows. “Hmm…” he said, “now there’s something at the window. I wonder what it could be, probably just the wind.”

 

_Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,_

_In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore._

_Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,_

_But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door, -_

_Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door –_

_Perched, and sat, and nothing more_

            Dwelling in the past had gotten to Wizardmon’s nerves and he began to tremble as he fused with the window, finally getting it open. In flew a digimon he’d never be able to forget – Demidevimon.

            The little bowling ball with wings flew by him without a peep and sat on the carving of an Angemon’s head above the door. Why Myotismon insisted on using angel’s in his décor, no one knew nor understood. And now they never would for the former master of the castle was long gone.

            Demidevimon sat patiently on his perch and looked at the rather flabbergasted mage.

 

_Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,_

_By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it bore,_

_“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,_

_Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore –_

_Tell me what thy name is in the Night’s Plutonian shore!”_

_Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”_

            “What brings you here, Demidevimon?” the blond digimon asked. The little bat digimon hadn’t been seen in the area in over four years since that fateful day when the Digidestined destroyed VenomMyotismon. He wasn’t too happy to see his former ally again, but was secretly glad that at least he had someone other than himself to talk with.

            Demidevimon only sat there and grinned wickedly at the other. “Nothing,” he spoke suddenly.

 

_Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,_

_Though its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore;_

_For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being_

_Even yet was blessed with seeing bird over his chamber door –_

_Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,_

_With name such as “Nevermore.”_

            Wizardmon stared at Demidevimon, completely confused by his reply. The bat digimon’s behavior hadn’t changed at all since he last worked with him. The smaller digimon continued to sit upon the angel’s head and grin at his former ally.

 

_But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only_

_That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour._

_Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered –_

_Till I scarcely more than muttered:_

            “All my friends have left me behind…” Wizardmon turned away from the grinning bat digimon over the door, determined not to let him get to him. How he loathed the little digimon’s constant teasing. “He’ll be gone by tomorrow, just like the hope Gatomon and I could be together.” He then quickly added some more wood to the flames before the fire disappeared altogether.

 

_Then the bird said,_

 

            “Nevermore.”

 

_Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,_

The mage digimon dropped the poker he had been using to stoke the fire at Demidevimon’s sudden word. Shaking his head, he bent to retrieve the iron rod. “No doubt he’s just teasing me with Myotismon’s final words – nothing more.”

 

_But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,_

_Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;_

_Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking_

_Fancy to Fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore –_

_What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore_

_Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”_

            Wizardmon pulled on the chair so that it now faced the still grinning bat digimon perched above the library door. Sighing, he sank into it and began to furrow his brow again. This time confused why he was actually beginning to be glad to see Demidevimon again, the book completely forgotten now.

 

_This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing_

_To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;_

_This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining_

_On the cushion’s velvet lining the lamp-light gloated o’er,_

_But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er_

_**She** shall press, ah, nevermore!_

            As he sat there trying to figure out why Demidevimon chose now to show up and what he meant by ‘Nevermore’, he found himself drifting off to nights when he and a little white cat would sit by the fire while their master was out hunting. He sighed sadly as he remembered how Gatomon would snuggle close to him and into the soft cushions of the chair as he would absentmindedly stroke her fur, making her purr.

            ‘She has Kari now,’ he thought with great sadness, not caring that his neck was beginning to get stiff from looking at the bat digimon above.

            Demidevimon’s red eyes had a strange something in them as he never ceased to watch the blond digimon mage sitting below.

 

_Then methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer_

_Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor._

            “Fool!” Wizardmon cried to himself. “She was never meant to be with you. You must forget her Wizardmon.”

 

_Quoth the Raven,_

 

            “Nevermore.”

            “Again with that word,” the mage muttered. “Tell me Demidevimon, surely you must know of something to make a lovesick heart forget.”

            He smiled back at the grinning bat digimon. Even though he loathed his former comrade, he had been so starved for companionship that he had begun to accept the smaller digimon’s presence. No one ever dared to approach the castle or the lands surrounding it, Myotismon’s memory still haunting his old hunting grounds.

 

_Quoth the Raven,_

 

            “Nevermore.”

            “Aren’t you going to say something else?” he asked, slightly annoyed by what he kept seeing in the bat digimon’s eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to, ne? Maybe you’ve seen Gatomon. Tell me, have you seen Gatomon?”

            There were rumors of human children roaming the Digiworld once again. He was anxious for news of his one and only true friend. Surely, he believed, that the bat digimon had indeed seen her.

 

_Quoth the raven,_

 

            “Nevermore.”

            “If you’re going to say nothing else, then please leave Demidevimon,” he said exasperated and chilled once more by the smaller digimon’s eyes and unswerving grin. “Go back to where you came from and trouble me no more!”

            He wished he hadn’t left his staff behind in his bedroom, unable to remove his eyes from the flashing ruby one’s of Demidevimon.

 

_Quoth the Raven,_

 

            “Nevermore.”

 

_And the Raven, never flitting, is sitting, still is sitting_

_On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;_

_And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,_

_And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;_

_And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor_

_Shall be lifted – nevermore!_

            Still unnerved and confused by what was in those burning ruby eyes, Wizardmon resigned himself to probably never getting rid of the pesky bat digimon. He returned the chair to its original position by the fire and resumed to ponder the strange language of a group of poems by a human once known as Chaucer.

            “Fine stay then, see if I care,” he muttered before blocking the other digimon from his mind.

            Unheeded, Demidevimon chuckled softly to himself. He could see that living with the melancholy and easily annoyed mage was going to be such fun. He pondered leaving the high perch for one beside his companion, but decided to watch him some more from above, knowing full well how Wizardmon hated being stared at.

 

            Hours later, the bat digimon did leave only to slip out the door and return minutes later with a thick blanket. The little digimon mage had fallen asleep, the book fallen down to the floor and the fire now dead. Smiling to no one in particular, Demidevimon picked up the heavy book and placed it on a table next to the sleeping Wizardmon before covering him with the blanket.

            Once he was certain his former comrade was sufficiently tucked in for the night, the little bat digimon curled himself up in the mage’s lap and allowed himself to drift into a peaceful slumber.

 

~Owari~


End file.
